Stay low like roots,
deep in the rhythm of truth,
let the shine come to you
when you’ve paid your dues in silence.
Don’t bark for fame—
just walk like you been crowned
since the cradle,
chin up, soul grounded.
Every bite earned
starts with a fast,
and every throne
was once a folding chair in the back.
Gratitude is gangster.
Discipline is divine.
And hustle?
That’s love in motion
with a beat behind it.
So bless your plate,
serve your heart,
and let your hunger
speak fluent legacy.